Chapter Six of 'Chrysalis'- Stirring Chaos

[lomonaaeren]

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Chapter Six—Stirring Chaos

Theo sits at Harry’s side and watches the collection of people in the room with interest. They got ushered into an anteroom off the side of the big Wizengamot court space not three minutes after Harry shouted his accusation at Fudge.

Madam Bones stands near the front of the room, arms folded. Fudge has conjured a chair and is leaning back with his bowtie loosened, gasping as if he’s about to have a heart attack. Black hovers behind the couch that Theo claimed for himself and Harry the minute they came in, and Dumbledore is standing near Madam Bones. There’s also Augusta Longbottom, although who invited her, Theo doesn’t know. He only recognizes her from the vulture on her hat.

The door sealed shut right after Madam Longbottom squeezed in. She’s frowning at Theo. Theo looks serenely back, then looks over as Madam Bones starts talking.

“So you did tell the Minister that your godfather was innocent, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, Madam Bones.” Harry has calmed down a little from the emotional high he was riding in the courtroom. He leans a little in Black’s direction, though without taking his eyes from Madam Bones. Theo tries to imagine what an enormous relief it probably is to have Black free, and can’t. It’s enough that it matters to Harry.

“I heard Peter Pettigrew’s confession and saw him transform back from a rat,” Harry continues. “Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were there and overheard, too. And Sirius and Remus Lupin were there, of course.”

“Remus Lupin was sacked—” Fudge begins.

“For being a werewolf, yes, I remember.” Madam Bones has her wand drawn, and it raps her elbow, since she also has her arms crossed. Theo keeps a close eye on her. He knows the devastating speed she can cast with. Father talked about it often. “That doesn’t make his word worthless in a court case, Cornelius.”

“You remember that we passed that little bill last year saying werewolves couldn’t testify, Amelia.”

“It wasn’t meant to be retroactive,” Madam Bones snaps. Fudge wilts. Madam Bones turns abruptly to Theo. “And you have knowledge of these matters as well, Mr. Nott?”

“I wasn’t present to see Peter Pettigrew’s original confession or transformation,” Theo says smoothly. “But I did see him attacking Harry and me in the graveyard, and I’ll be happy to contribute Pensieve memories about the Dark Mark on his arm, if they’re needed.”

“You didn’t trust any of them?” Madam Bones asks, turning back to Fudge.

“They were children, Amelia. Excitable children. I know you’ve raised your niece, Samantha, you must know how excited children can get.”

Theo manages to smother his laugh as a cough just in time. Fudge is trying to appeal to Madam Bones, and he couldn’t even get her niece’s name right.

“I know that three thirteen-year-olds are capable of having their memories checked and using guardians’ consent to take Veritaserum,” Madam Bones snaps, and turns huffily away from Fudge. “And you!”

Dumbledore blinks, clearly not having expected to find himself the object of her next attack. “Me, Amelia?” he asks, a little meekly.

“You didn’t even try to get Mr. Black a trial! Did you also hear about this confession and how Pettigrew was a Death Eater?”

“I thought it was too dangerous when Cornelius had the Kiss-on-Sight order for Sirius—”

“And you didn’t write to me and tell me that he hadn’t had a trial, either!” Madam Bones seems to be breathing fire, and Theo leans back and simply enjoys the hilarious sight. When he glances at Harry beside him, Harry has a small smile on his face, too. “No one did anything except schoolchildren!”

“I had my reasons, Amelia. I just told you one of them. I considered the political situation in the Ministry too delicate.” Dumbledore peers over his spectacles in their direction, and if he’s trying to aim a disappointed look at Harry, then Theo is simply going to have to carve his eyes out with a dull knife, that’s all. “And when I learned that Cornelius had been presented with the evidence and denied it—”

“They were children,” Fudge whinges again.

Madam Longbottom speaks up then, making Theo jump. Madam Bones and Dumbledore were so entertaining that he nearly forgot she was in the room at all. “You mean to tell me that my grandson was in the same school with Dementors surrounding it and also had an Animagus Death Eater sleeping in the same dormitory as he was?” she asks with ominous quiet.

“No one knew that at the time,” Harry interjects. He’s probably thinking about Weasley getting in trouble for not telling anyone.

“But no one wrote and told me after the fact, either.” Madam Longbottom’s voice is even quieter.

Harry’s eyes narrow. Theo has seen that happen in the past, and it often indicated trouble to come, but in this case, Harry simply says, “From the upset you’ve caused Neville, I wouldn’t have dared to write to you and cause more for him.”

Madam Longbottom isn’t the only one to stare at Harry in surprise. Black draws in a sharp breath. Theo wonders if he knew Madam Longbottom before he went to prison and knows how sharp she is, or if he just doesn’t want Harry caught up further in this mess.

“Explain that, Mr. Potter, if you would not mind.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to,” Harry says, and swings around on the couch to fully face Madam Longbottom. “You’re always telling him that he isn’t good enough, from the things I’ve seen. Convinced him that he isn’t worth anything. He’s talked about possibly being Sorted into Hufflepuff like it was the most devastating thing that could happen to anyone. I know he uses his dad’s wand, not because it chose him but because you wanted him to. He’s always afraid of not being able to live up to his parents’ legacy, and I know they were tortured and put into St. Mungo’s when Neville was so young that he doesn’t really remember them. So you’re the one who’s telling him over and over again that he isn’t good enough. You would probably have torn me to shreds if I wrote to you. Or torn Neville to shreds for not telling you, and made him feel like he should have spotted Pettigrew and stopped him singlehandedly. Because you’re not proud of him, and that’s really stupid.”

Madam Longbottom opens her mouth. Nothing comes out. Black is apparently holding his breath and is going to die of asphyxiation soon, and Dumbledore is gaping at Harry, and Madam Bones’s face is blank.

Theo thinks everyone is hilarious, and is muffling his laugh with an effort that involves clenching his stomach really hard.

“Children,” Fudge whispers.

That seems to set everyone off again. Dumbledore straightens up and says, “Harry, there are facets of Mr. Longbottom’s situation that you do not—”

“Harry, oh, Merlin,” Black whispers.

“As entertaining as this family drama is—” That’s Madam Bones.

“Well,” says Madam Longbottom, still more ominously than she talked about Pettigrew being in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory.

“What I said is true,” Harry says quietly, his eyes fastened on Madam Longbottom.

Theo leans his shoulder against Harry. He’s proud of him, in a way, although he also thinks wistfully about what would have happened if Harry had spoken up in that way to Granger or Weasley when they were having their stupid argument about apologies with Harry.

Of course, he finds it a lot easier to speak up in defense of his friends than he does of himself.

“Neville has always known he can come to me if he has—concerns,” Madam Longbottom is going on, stiffly, apparently having won the silent contest to speak first by sheer force of outrage. “Unlike you, Mr. Potter, who has had no parents to teach him proper manners—”

Theo reaches out a hand, and manages to put it on Harry’s shoulder as he starts to stand up. Then he reaches out and puts a hand up like a bar to keep Black from marching around the couch.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Black says, voice sounding slightly muffled. Theo glances back at him and sees that Black has a hand across his face, peering at the people in the room between his fingers in what looks like horrified fascination.

“Good,” Theo says, and turns to stare at Madam Longbottom. She takes a step back from whatever she sees in his eyes.

“Neville is Harry’s friend,” Theo says. “And he’s my casual friend, although I wouldn’t say that we know each other nearly as well as Neville and Harry do. I always wondered why he was so timid. I knew the part about his using his father’s wand, but I hadn’t connected it to the rumors about you.”

“What rumors?” Madam Longbottom appears to swell to twice her size, like a bullfrog.

“So obsessed with her perfect son that she can’t see anything else.”

Theo is exaggerating, slightly. It’s not so much rumors as gossip that circulated between his father and a few other people. But he can’t let the insult she gave Harry go unavenged.

Madam Longbottom opens her mouth, and then closes it. Theo doesn’t know for sure what she would say. He doesn’t intend to give her the chance to recover and say it, anyway, not when she would probably insult Harry some more.

He leans over so that his elbow is resting on Harry’s shoulder and his allegiance is perfectly declared, and smiles at her. “Being abusive to your grandson won’t result in your son coming back,” he says. “Neville’s never going to be his father. Admit it. Live with it.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about, young man,” Madam Longbottom whispers. Theo thinks she’s trying to sound threatening, but her voice is hollow.

“Oh, yes, I do,” Theo says softly. He isn’t about to cut open his own wounds and bleed all over the place, but he’s telling the truth. Father wanted the perfect heir and tried his best to sculpt Theo into one. And he took out his rage and disappointment at Theo’s “softness” on him all the time. “What I do know that is that Neville is going to grow into a young man who’ll leave you behind and not give you a single glance again if you keep pushing him away. The day he figures out what he’s worth? You don’t stand a chance.”

“Mr. Nott,” Dumbledore says, apparently recovered from the shock of Harry’s attack. “I find it inappropriate for you to express such sentiments to a grandmother who has been trying her best to raise a difficult child—”

Theo turns to look at Dumbledore, and doesn’t try to hide what he feels. Dumbledore stares at him.

“Difficult because he’s not what his grandmother wants him to be?” Theo whispers. His rage is so overpowering that he can’t speak more loudly. “Difficult because he doesn’t fit the perfect stereotype of a Gryffindor? I can’t believe you would say that.”

“Neville is my friend,” Harry says, and his eyes are glittering, while he sits bolt upright. “If you act as though he’s difficult and terrible just because he’s not exactly like his father, then you don’t really know him, Headmaster. How much time have you even spent with him?”

Dumbledore blinks and glances away. Then he says, “Perhaps difficult was the wrong word.”

“I’ll say,” Theo murmurs, and looks away, too. He’s startled by his own rage in defense of Longbottom, who is Harry’s friend but not Theo’s.

But Longbottom was someone who supported Harry last year when so many people didn’t care or turned against him or thought their own preoccupations—like who Harry was dating—were more important than what Harry needed. Theo hasn’t seen such courage in anyone except Harry and Longbottom.

It seems he’s more than willing to hurt those who hurt Harry’s friends, after all.

But they do still need Dumbledore to fight Voldemort, so Theo isn’t interested in a permanent rupture with him. He controls his breathing and reaches out to lightly encircle Harry’s wrist with one hand.

Madam Bones clears her throat noisily in the ensuing silence. “So we’ll need to examine Pensieve memories from Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger,” she says. “And I would like to see ones from you, too, Mr. Potter.”

“Sure, Madam Bones. If you can make a vow to me that no one except you will look at them and you won’t share them with anyone else.”

Theo smiles. He didn’t say anything to Harry about that, given that they didn’t know Madam Bones would make this offer or even want to speak with them in private. He’s extremely proud of Harry.

“What? Why would you ask that, young man?”

Madam Bones seems astonished enough that Harry looks at her again. “Because the Ministry has ignored me and turned against me and tried to kill my godfather on sight. Sorry, but I don’t really trust someone else not to get hold of these memories and try to use them against me.”

“I am not Cornelius Fudge, Mr. Potter.”

“Can you guarantee that they aren’t any people like him in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?”

Madam Bones sighs a little. “If I am right about how long this miscarriage of justice has lasted and how deep it runs, then no, I cannot. Very well, Mr. Potter, I will take that vow.” She draws her wand.

“Amelia!” Fudge totters back to his feet. “You are to stop that right this instant! I order you!”

Madam Bones turns a cold look on him. “You have done quite enough, Cornelius, including trying to order the execution of an innocent man.”

“The Department of Magical Law Enforcement follows the orders of the Minister for Magic—”

“Except in cases where the Minister has been implicated in a crime or corruption. Honestly, Cornelius, you cite the laws often enough, you should read them,” Madam Bones says acidly, and turns back to Harry.

“I can serve as the Bonder,” Theo offers instantly.

“I hardly planned an Unbreakable Vow, Mr. Nott.”

The attention of Madam Bones is unpleasant when she isn’t on your side. Theo still lifts his chin and tries to bear up underneath it. “There are other kinds of Vows that need a Bonder but don’t reach the level of the Unbreakable kind, Madam. I was talking about acting as the Bonder for one of them.”

“You can’t do that,” Madam Longbottom interrupts. Theo hoped that his admonishment and Harry’s would give her something to think about and keep her quiet for a bit, but her cheeks are flushed and she’s obviously ready to interfere again. “You’re underage. Your guardian would need to give their consent.”

“My father is dead, there is no one trying to claim custody, and his will didn’t outline anyone who could take custody of me,” Theo drawls. His father didn’t think he had to, since he never intended to let Theo outlive him; Theo knows well enough that his father intended to kill him the moment Theo produced a child. “Therefore, magical Britain essentially treats me as an adult.”

“What? That can’t be right.”

That’s Dumbledore. Theo smiles at him a little without taking his attention from Madam Bones, who’s stepped forwards and seems to have decided what side of the debate she’s coming down on. “Yes, it is, sir. I would wager that more than one child in the school is in that situation right now, not counting me.”

“It cannot—”

“It just happens in Houses you don’t pay as much attention to, sir,” Theo finishes, perfectly polite. Dumbledore doesn’t favor Gryffindor as outrageously as, say, Snape favors Slytherin, but he doesn’t bother looking at the others. In fact, Theo knows there are more Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in this situation than there are Slytherins.

“But there must be a law about it,” Dumbledore says helplessly, and turns back to Madam Bones, because of course trusting the word of a student who isn’t a Gryffindor is beyond him. “There is a law, surely, Amelia?”

“Only in the cases of those parents who have made wills,” says Madam Bones. “I happen to know, for example, that there is no provision for Muggleborns whose parents or other guardians die while they are still underage and have left no wills. Usually, they simply go to live with the family of a friend, but the adoption is never official in the magical world. It can’t be. The laws don’t exist.”

“There must be,” Dumbledore repeats, starting to frown.

“It is a matter that I have tried to bring up to sitting Ministers several times,” Madam Bones says, not looking at Fudge. Theo knows that’s the only way that a Department Head can actually suggest legislation, since they don’t have a right to pass laws themselves or propose them to the Wizengamot. “None of them were ever interested.”

Fudge flinches. Theo is glad to know that he’s embarrassed. It’ll weaken him politically to have the DMLE Head turning against him, even if no one else in the room ever talks about it. People will notice the distant, cool way Madam Bones is treating Fudge.

And Theo has no intention of keeping his mouth shut.

“Do you understand the procedure for such a Vow, Mr. Potter?” Madam Bones asks softly, and turns to look at Harry. There’s compassion in her eyes, something Theo wouldn’t have expected. Maybe she’s thinking through the ramifications of Theo’s words and thinking that since Black was incarcerated for so long, Harry wouldn’t have had proper guardians, either.

“Yes, Madam Bones.”

Harry extends his hand, and Madam Bones comes over to lay her wrist alongside his, standing rather than kneeling, as they would for an Unbreakable Vow. Theo immediately takes a slender gold chain from one of his robe pockets and loops it over their joined hands.

“This is a bit hasty, Amelia,” Dumbledore says.

“Amelia! I order you to stop this nonsense!”

“Madam Bones, I think the boys a bit young—”

Black is the only adult who doesn’t speak, just watching with hungry eyes.

“I swear to you, Harry James Potter,” says Madam Bones, her voice high and clear, “that I, Amelia Susan Bones, will never show the memories that you gift to me without your explicit permission through either word of mouth or writing.”

Harry nods. He approves the Vow. Theo is glad, because although the last condition isn’t one that Madam Bones talked about adding before she made it, it’s a reasonable one. Harry might decide that he does want her to be able to share those memories with other people who are involved in the investigation and have no hostilities to Black.

“And I, Harry James Potter, promise Amelia Susan Bones to provide truthful memories and warn her about any bias in them.”

Theo snorts a little as the Vow settles. Harry is still a Gryffindor, and always will be, prone to reckless promises and more generous than he needs to be.

Harry glances at him with a smile, and Theo is reminded of how he’s benefited from that generosity. He smiles back, even as all the adults except Black and Madam Bones start babbling at them again.

He can never regret the person Harry is, reckless generosity and all.